


Tell me that it's all okay (I've been waitin’ on this all damn day)

by rednow



Series: mishandled discs and memory books (dream smp) [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Best Friends, Bruises, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, L'manberg is gone crab rave, Making Up, Old Friends, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Post Doomsday War (Jan 7th), Post-War, Reminiscing, SUCK IT FOR THE LAST TIME, SUCK IT GREEN BITCH, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Snow, Snowchester, War Injuries, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, are the SHIT and so valid i will always churn out content for them, boat travel, travelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28716135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rednow/pseuds/rednow
Summary: Tubbo traced a thumb lightly over Tommy’s knuckles. “Bruises,” he muttered, looking up at him.Tommy’s eyes widened slightly but he shrugged.Or, Tommy finally gets to meet his best friend at his new home, Snowchester.(script spun off from the crumbs of lore in tommy's jan 9th vod)
Relationships: Ghostbur & Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: mishandled discs and memory books (dream smp) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140326
Comments: 10
Kudos: 316





	1. Tell me that it's all okay

**Author's Note:**

> i just wanted to write this to work on my description study a bit. title inspiration is stay by post malone (played this on repeat while writing pretty much). 
> 
> i hope you enjoy! <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy ventures forth to meet Tubbo at his newly built escape, Snowchester. He gets interrupted by our favorite ghost sometime in the process.

Tubbo declared no more fighting apparently.

 _“Stupid,”_ was Tommy's first thought, when he received news of Snowchester, Tubbo's peace sanctuary far away in the snow biome.

He stood on the shreds of what was once L’manberg. A benign wind snaking through the ruins made its way to him, wrapping itself around his chest and shoulders chillingly. The morning sun hid decisively behind sunken grey clouds. His eyes roamed the land in front one last time.

Below the chunk of rock he stood on was a spanning annihilation that spread for miles up front. The destruction was of such level that all that remained behind was futile bedrock. He bit his lower lip, moistening it with the tip of his tongue. The demolition was only a terrible tangible of the incorporeal they’d—he’d—lost so far.

Tommy shook his head slightly, kicking a loose pebble with his heel into the void below. With nothing much left to see, he turned away, gulping down the hurt that rose up his throat. He wouldn’t enjoy another war like this.

But there was one bastard still alive. Tommy clambered down the razed stairs off the cliff, stray stones falling off the edges dangerously, and landed on the Prime Path. The oak planks were largely inflamed and the pathway wholly mauled. His brow furrowed. 

This was one of the oldest structures in the SMP.

Someone— a _bitch_ ; a manipulative, psychopathic bastard, was responsible for _all_ of this. His jaw clenched. Tubbo couldn’t be more wrong. Like it or not, war was inevitable.

He headed towards his old dirt house, hands trembling with all he felt. Only one thing would save the SMP now. Violence.

Words he’d heard a long time ago ringed harshly in his ears. _The only universal language is violence, Tommy._

Tommy tried not to think about his older brother.

-

It'd been a long while since Tubbo and Tommy had hung out as friends.

He hoped that when they met, the conversation would still flow.

It’d been even longer since he’d visited this place. When he entered, closing the birch door behind him, there was a sudden tightening in his chest, like healing skin closing over a wound. This was the place he had built, called his home, before chaos reigned. Before Dream fucked it all up.

The top of his storage chests had gathered dust. When he ran a finger down the edge of one, it came up black.

There would be time to clean, he assured himself. Right now, he needed Tubbo.

Tommy grabbed some of his old amour, having lost all in the war that brought hell the day prior. This set wasn't as sturdy as the one in which he'd fought, but it was good enough for defending against hostile mobs while travelling. Tommy wouldn't be fighting carelessly this time anyway. He would plan and plot, and he would have Tubbo by his side.

Or so he hoped.

He remembered Tubbo’s ecstatic voice when they paired for MCC 13, the one monthly event when the citizens of the SMP put aside their polarities and hatred to have friendly competition and rejoice together.

 _“I’ve missed you so much!”_ Tubbo had said, his blue eyes shining.

He packed some food, carrots and berries, unable to knock off the smile creeping on his face the whole time. Tommy really thought Tubbo would side by him. He was sure of it.

Tommy missed Tubbo too.

-

Tommy heaved a sigh of relief as the snow biome loomed nearer in sight. The sun was now low in the horizon, and nightfall was closing in. He sped up his rowing, arms screaming for respite and the shirt he wore underneath beginning to soak with sweat despite the gradual dip in temperature.

The boat hit the shoreline with a sickening crunch, the soft ice underneath crushed by its weight. He hopped out, withdrawing his sword from the back scabbard. It was nighttime now, which meant mobs. And chilling cold. He stuffed his other hand into his pocket to save heat and began his climb up the snow covered hill.

Once at the top, he could see Tubbo’s lights on the other side. His face brightened, the slight nervousness he’d been feeling all this while melting at the thought of seeing Tubbo again. He was ready to sprint downhill when he was interrupted by a gentle ‘Hey, Tommy’ that rang out of nowhere, startling him out of his wits.

“What—" he said irritatedly, clambering up from the horrid snow. "—the _fuck_ is wrong with you, Ghostbur?” His annoyance was immeasurable as he dusted his now-soon-to-be soaking wet clothing.

The ghost of Wilbur materialized in front of him, waving. Tommy eyed him tiredly.

Wilbur folded his hands in front. “Why aren’t you acting incredibly sad, Tommy?” he asked him politely.

Tommy sighed. “Because I’m not sad no more, bitch.” Tommy walked right through Wilbur, heading downhill, knowing Wilbur would follow.

“But why aren’t you sad?” Wilbur asked, trailing behind him. His soft voice reverberated into the cold air, wisps of it reaching Tommy.

Shortly, “‘Cause I’m all happy and shit.”

He could see Snowchester now. It was a homely cottage, made of oak and birch and a small pathway made of planks lead up from the snow to it. A small smile crept up on Tommy’s face, every ounce of annoyance dissipating.

“Well. I suppose that’s good.”

Why did he always sound so confused? Tommy asked, “And how are you, Ghostbur?”

“I’m good.” Ghostbur replied abruptly before continuing in the same lost tone. “Why are you bothering Tubbo?”

Tommy felt exasperated. “Listen now, Ghostbur, I need to go—” “Okay!” The ghost appeared in front of him again. “—But can I talk to you soon?” He looked behind Wilbur, hoping he'd catch a bit of Tubbo’s diamond blue armor outside.

“No,” Wilbur said, his voice childishly innocent. “Okay Tommy, goodbye.”

Tommy let it slide. _What a fucking weirdo,_ he thought. “Goodbye, Ghostbur,” he agreed, watching his dead brother fade away.

He continued the walk downhill, feet starting to drag slightly. Exhaustion stung him now that he didn’t have Wilbur to distract him. It’d been a long day.

There was a shimmer of blue ahead.

“Tommy?” A familiar voice echoed back to him.

The sixteen year old boy marched forward to meet his friend.


	2. I've been waitin’ on this all damn day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo and Tommy talk. Tommy finally feels safe :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slight cw: mention of bruises, but nothing graphic.

He looked taller from the last time Tommy saw him. 

Tubbo stood in the driveway, hands shoved inside his moss green overcoat.  _ Grown up too, _ Tommy’s head added. Tommy wondered what he looked like to his best friend. Probably the same, he debated. The war had forced them to mature before their years.

“Tommy?” The familiar quiet voice echoed back to him. 

The side of his face was illuminated by the lights from Snowchester. Tommy glanced at the cabin, instantly aware of the love with which Tubbo must have built the place. The cabin’s little chimney smoked into the dark night, and the front porch was overhung with warm glowstone torches.

“Hi Tubs!” Tommy hollered back, waving an arm wildly at him.

Behind Tubbo, choppy waves crashed loudly onto rocks. The ink black sea was always alive, be it day or night. 

Tubbo just stood there, rooted. “Are you for real?” He sounded shy, _cautious_.  
  
Tommy laughed and ran to him, watching Tubbo’s smile grow bigger with the distance between them closing. 

“What do you think, big man?” Tommy told him when he was near enough, heeling a boot into the snow to stop his momentum. Tubbo’s cheeks and the tip of nose were tinged red from the cold, and Tommy couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. 

Apparently, Tubbo couldn't either. His blue eyes stayed on him and for a beat, both just stood there, faces brightened by Snowchester to their right and by the presence of each other’s companies which enclosed them in their very own safe bubble. 

Tommy broke the silence by attempting to make a joke. “Hello there, Ghostbo,” he said, waving a hand in front of his face. “Say something.”   
  
Tubbo rolled his eyes but his disbelief soon returned.

“Tommy–” His breathlessness made the boy in question bite his lower lip hard. “You came.” Tubbo finished lamely, making Tommy chuckle.

“‘Course I did, big man. I promised I would. Told you I’d come back to you.” 

Tubbo opened his mouth as if to respond but altered plans. He started up the driveway, motioning with his hand for Tommy to follow.

Tommy breathed out, watched the fog disappear into the cold night, and obliged.

~

Tubbo traced a thumb lightly over Tommy’s knuckles. “Bruises,” he muttered, looking up at him.

Tommy’s eyes widened slightly but he shrugged.

A fireplace in the corner of the room roared beneath the cobblestone chimney that guided smoke out of the house. They were sitting at the dining table in the hallway. 

“What did he do to you?” Tubbo asked, not needing to mention the name.

Tommy felt an absurd amount of shame surge him. “It’s not worth talking about. It’s over– ”

“Of course it’s worth talking about.” Tubbo interrupted him, his hand fiercely grabbing onto Tommy’s. “Unless you don’t want to, which is alright,” he added, loosening his grip.

Tommy stared mutely at their hands resting atop the glassy table, and when Tubbo didn’t move his away, he was struck by how much they’d grown. A dull ache in his heart told him he missed the old him—the old Tubbo—when they didn’t think it important to confide intimacies.

“I– I came for this, Tubbo.” He said, turning to him. “He’s  _ still  _ here. We can’t have peace, not while  he’s there.” Tubbo stared at him for a second and then squeezed his hand and Tommy took it as a cue to continue. “He’s  _ still  _ out there, after all of this bullshit – he  _ ruined  _ everything, he ruined us. He… he needs to go, Tubs.” He pressed Tubbo’s hand hard. “Dream needs to _die_.”  


The fire popped, lighting up the room in warm shades while Tubbo’s gaze diffused, considering the sentiment. Tommy heard waves collide outside. It was late but sleep had been a low-grade priority for them for months now.

__

“Do you really want this again?” Tubbo finally asked. 

Tommy frowned at him. “What the fuck do you mean _I_ want this– Of course I do! Dream needs to die, Tubbo, it’s the only way!”   


Tubbo looked unconvinced and stared at the fireplace. Tommy shook his hand away from his grip, feeling paranoia overtake him. He brandished his fist in front of the young boy, pointing at his wounds. 

“You see these? The bruises? That’s not all!” He spat out angrily and Tubbo looked at him deer-eyed. “I have scars in all other places from this shit. Dream burned my armor each evening. Mobs exist, Tubbo, I didn’t sleep until dawn most nights.” 

He dragged his chair away from the table. “He– he ruined me! And he’s gonna do it again.” Tubbo shifted in his seat with apparent discomfort and Tommy bit his tongue hard, quietening for his sake. 

“I just… don’t know who else to trust than you, Tubbo.” Tommy tried again, like he always did. “Technoblade is gone, Technoblade betrayed me, and Wilbur- Wil is a fucking looney- my family is in shambles.” Tommy shook his head and stared into his lap. “There’s just nothing left anymore.”

To Tommy's surprise, Tubbo suddenly reached out for him with feverish vigour, this time for both his hands. Tommy let him. 

“I’m sorry,” Tubbo whispered, his eyes wet. 

He grabbed hold of the underside of Tommy’s hands and pulled them in front of him. 

“I– I didn’t get the full scale of this. 'm so sorry, Tommy,” he murmured again, still not looking at him. Tubbo's dark hair fell over his forehead and he spoke in the same low, rough voice which Tommy had heard from him the day Wilbur died and Tommy wept inconsolably till dawn. 

In that moment, Tommy felt himself break. And for once, in the safety of his best friend, he allowed himself.

Silent tears streamed down his face at the relief of finally being understood, finally being heard. 

When Tubbo finally looked at him, his lip quivered. He squeezed his hands tight and cried with him. 

~

It was pleasant being here, Tommy thought. Tubbo slept curled up on the other side of the bed, his back towards him. 

Tommy's eyes fixedly stared at the ceiling made of old winter oak, his arms folded on his chest.  _It's only going to get better from here, pogchamp,_ he murmured, assuring himself. _Keep it together, just one more time._

__

That morning of January 10th marked the first in months when Tommy woke up feeling safe. 

__

_ You’re going to suck it, green boy, _ he found himself thinking.  _ You’re going to suck it for the very last time. _

__

Now all he had to do was wait for Tubbo to wake up, plot their revenge and kill the green bitch.

__

Outside, an early morning wave crashed into a rock. _Every act of creation is first an act of destruction_ , he was reminded of words of wisdom Phil taught Techno, now almost a decade back, when six-year-old Tommy would take it upon his entire being's dignity to dutifully wreck chaos on all of his older brother's belongings.

__

This memory did not bring the pain nostalgia often brings. Tommy had grown enough from his experiences to learn that many good things had happened in the past—which was true, Tubbo was right next to him—but that was no reason to crib, for good would happen again in the future. 

__

To his side, Tubbo stirred. Tommy glanced slightly at him before returning back to his hyperfixation to the ceiling. Words he’d been repeating to himself came back.  _ It’s all okay, _ he told himself.  _ You’ve been waiting for this all damn day.  _

__

Tommy let himself smile.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for straight up dying on this fic LMAO - this is not my best work and i don't feel that proud of it tbh. still wanted to finish it though, and not give in to my perfectionism tendencies 
> 
> as a oneshots person, user sub to me i beg. i need to feed the gastrodia agnicellus in my garden
> 
> ps, [my twitter](https://twitter.com/REDN0W_) for more bullshit


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